


The Red Madness

by Ohsoverysensible



Series: Dorian's Sweet Boy [11]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohsoverysensible/pseuds/Ohsoverysensible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was an accident. A scratch. Nothing more. But even a tiny little scrape could spell destruction for Dorian Pavus, especially when the tiny little scrape was made by one of the most dangerous substances in Thedas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lot Of Red

"Shit," Varric breathed as they stood together on the frozen river, staring up through the snow to see bleeding trails of redness all around. "That is a lot of red lyrium."

"That's a lot of trouble," Blackwell stated, shaking his head as his eyes scanned the hills. The rocky cliffs of the Emprise du Lion seemed full of the stuff. It was daunting.

Dorian heard Alex gulp. "I had no idea they'd found this much. How are they mining all of this?"

"It does seem surprising that it hasn't come up before," Dorian agreed. "Maybe they weren't looking for it before."

"This stuff should only be in the deepest pits of the Deep Roads," Varric said almost angrily. He looked at the red crystals as if personally offended by them. "This shouldn't _be_ here. Even with the world falling to shit. Something has to be wrong here, Freckles," he said, looking up at Alex.

The worried furrow in Alexander's brows had Dorian feeling just as skeptical. They all knew what had to be done, but none of them were particularly eager to march into hills covered in red lyrium. They'd seen what it could do, after all, and Varric even more so. The amount of it present...the things it could do to  you just by being around...

"I don't want any of this getting anywhere," Alexander said after a pause, determination setting his jaw into a hard line. "If that means we have to go through it..."

"This stuff isn't safe," Varric said. "I agree with wanting to clear this crap out, but there has to be a better way to do it, right? Just spending a couple hours around it could start making us...funny."

"But not permanenetly," Alexander said, looking down at Varric's tense expression. "If we go through, keep back, do what we can to destroy it, then it's over. No one touch it," Alex said, breaking off and talking to the group he had gathered around him. They'd followed him through enough dirt already, they would follow him through this. "Keep your wits about you. We have to clear out the Templars before they can make this any worse. And try and find out why they've been taking people."

"We'll take it all out," Blackwall said. "And make sure whoever is responsible gets what's coming to them."

"So severe," Dorian said. "I'm shaking in my boots. Or maybe that's because of how absolutely freezing it is here. I did mention I'm not adaptable to cold climates, did I not?"

"Feel free to wait back at camp," Blackwall spat.

"Enough," Alex chastised. "We need to work together, now more than ever. Varric is right. We're dealing with something toxic here."

"Well as long as we don't touch it, right?" Dorian asked. 

And then a strange thing happened. Everyone looked at him. Dorian wasn't used to having all eyes on him, at least not in this way. He showcased himself, protected himself, with a thick layer of finery. But the way everyone turned to him said anything  _but_ attraction. "What?" Dorian asked.

"You're a mage," said Blackwall.

"What a clever boy you are," Dorian said.

"You could be more prone to weirdness, Sparkler," Varric put in, making everyone's nervous face make sense.

But Dorian rolled his eyes. "I think with this much of the stuff around, I might not be the biggest concern here."

"No one is concerned," Alexander lied. Poorly. "Just...keep your distance."

"Because I was planning on running over and hugging one of the massive, glowing red spikes shooting from the ground," Dorian spat sarcastically.

Blackwall huffed. "You never know with you."

Dorian shot Blackwall a terrific glare. One of his bests.

Alex rolled his eyes and walked between them, heading for the hills with Varric being the first one on his heels. Blackwall followed shortly after, but Dorian sighed and paused for a brief moment. He stared at the red outcrops that seemed to lean down at them menacingly. As Alex, Varric, and Blackwall started through the snow, Dorian felt his skin prickle and his stomach empty. There was an awful lot of red there.

And he was a mage.

Lyrium was sort of his thing. He'd never been in the presence of this much  _normal_ lyrium, so he had nothing to compare and contrast. He took inventory of how he was feeling now, just briefly, and hoped to remember the sensation in order to analyze any changes later.

But he followed diligently. He had to agree, this stuff shouldn't get out of hand. And it already was.

There were ruins through the hills, and rocky caverns casting shadows through the snow that made the red glow even more ominous. Because it was everywhere. As they marched further into the wilderness, away from their camp, the amount of red lyrium that took over the rocks and trees and ruins seemed far too great. "Why does it...glow like that?" Dorian asked as they gingerly picked their way along the hillside.

"I don't know and I don't want to know," Varric said. Dorian had never heard him sound so nervous, agitated. "Just stay back from it. I don't like the way it seems to reach out at you."

"What," Dorian chided, "me in particular?"

"In general, Sparkler, in general," Varric snapped.

"I can only imagine it would be best not to linger," Blackwall said, speeding up his own pace to match Alex far ahead.

If the lyrium deposits weren't concerning enough, the thick snow made navigating the terrain an even worse experience. Making your way through what felt like a mine-field was all the more difficult when slipping and tripping were a possibility.

As they got further in, it became unavoidable. Varric, surprisingly, wasn't the worst. For him the biggest inconvenience was the height of the snow, but he ploughed through well if not slowly. Blackwall, with his thick boots and sturdy legs, matched Alex for speed and agility when it came to pushing through the heavy white layers. The person who had the biggest trouble, much to his disgruntlement, was Dorian. He tripped twice going up a particularly steep slope, and then again near the top. On instinct, he'd reached out to grab for a hand, grabbing an unwilling Blackwall instead of a rocky wall.

"Learn to mind your feet!" Blackwall scolded. "We can't carry you up the hill, your Majesty."

"Oh yes, very witty, I had a privileged life," Dorian said icily as he tried to shake his boots free of some slush. "Your insults are incredibly creative."

"We have enough to deal with without you two bickering," Alexander said, looking behind him as Blackwall was yanking his arm away from Dorian. "We are a team," he scolded, heading down the slope slightly and reaching for Dorian. "Come on," he said, his tone a little gentler. Blackwall looked vaguely chastised, but Dorian frowned.

"I can manage, thank you," he said. "It was a momentary bout of difficulty. I'm not a burden."

Alex just sighed. If Dorian didn't want his help, he wasn't in the mindset to force it on him. Watching as Dorian ploughed his way through the snow and up towards Varric at the top, Alex gave Blackwall a look. "Please. Not when we're surrounded by agitating magic."

Blackwall nodded, lowering his gaze. He felt a sudden little chill in his body that didn't relate to the cold. "Do you think the lyrium can effect behaviour?" he wondered.

Alex straightened his shoulders. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Not exactly the most comfortable experience, is it," Blackwall mused as they continued on. "Does it have you on edge?" he asked gently.

Alex sighed and looked up ahead, as if somehow he could see Dorian beyond. He couldn't remember if someone told him, or if he read it somewhere recently, but the concern that the  tainted lyrium here could effect Dorian easier than the rest of them sat poorly with Alex. "That's putting it lightly," Alexander finally grumbled.

"We got company!" Varric's voice rang out from the hollow of a little cavern, and the immediate sound of battle followed. Alex and Blackwall ran as well as they could through the snow in order to, just in time, send an archer flying back against the wall before his arrow let loose. Alex launched headlong into the fray, Blackwall close behind, as Dorian threw a barrier around the two men hacking and slashing. He stationed himself by one of the walls, avoiding the red lyrium that seeped through the cracks, casting against the archers he saw at the mouth of the little cave. Ranged defence wasn't Alexander's strong suit, and Dorian did whatever he could to help that matter.

But there were more. And mages. Varric handled the other archers while Dorian turned to the side to address an enemy mage standing atop one of the big rocks. She cast with surprising accuracy and speed, but with a swift spin of his staff, Dorian had her screaming in horror as false images formed before her eyes. She fled, flailing, slamming into the wall behind her, and in her panic Dorian froze her where she stood.

And then an arrow flew by him. He leaned back in shock, and in that sudden moment, Dorian lost his footing. He truly wasn't adaptable to cold climates, and his boots certainly weren't prepared for ice. He went down, hard, slamming his head back against one of the sharp rocks. Turning, dazed, he watched an archer ready another shot, and in a desperate attempt to save himself Dorian threw a flash of fire towards the other man.

It caught, much to Dorian's groggy surprise. His head was ringing. But the fire burned bright, strong, incredibly hot. His ice, his horrors, had also been surprisingly potent. 

He pulled himself back to his feet shakily, using his staff for support, but his head ached and something on his back burned. It felt like a torn muscle, and it made him feel absolutely ancient, but he rolled his shoulder and threw a massive wall of fire between Alexander and another warrior. It seemed to surprise them both, and they turned to look at Dorian, who stood there in his own kind of shock. The flames reached higher than he'd ever seen them reach.

As the soldier was distracted, Varric took him out with a shot to the leg, and the last enemy fell.

Everyone was out of breath, having been on edge before the battle began. "Is everyone alright?" Varric asked. They regrouped in the centre of the cavern, checking in on one another, making sure everyone seemed at least somewhat unharmed. As Blackwall and Varric made their way forward, Alexander spotted Dorian prodding at the back of his head.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked softly.

Dorian immediately dropped his hand. "Perfectly well, thank you," he said with his characteristic smirk.

Alex frowned. "Did someone get you? You were rubbing your--"

"Perfectly well, Alex," Dorian said, patting Alexander on the shoulder. "I'm not incompetent."

"I didn't  _say_ you were," Alex mumbled as Dorian headed off. 

He wasn't bleeding, and that's all that mattered.

The momentary battle, mixed with the embarrassment of Dorian slipping all the time, made every stumble afterwards feel all the more ridiculous to Dorian. He was a powerful mage, feared and ignored by so many people, a dreaded Tevinter, and he couldn't even manage not to slip in the snow. It made him angry, as many negative emotions tended to, and as they climbed ever higher he found himself glaring at the ground with his arms crossed tight over his cold chest. When he fell again, unable to catch himself as he shivered, he nearly slid down the hill.

Alex had reached back for him, catching his hand, and when he hauled him up Dorian was fuming inside. The look on the other's faces made Dorian feel even more pathetic. And his head hurt. He seemed to be the only one having a truly difficult day, and it got to him. Their concern over the lyrium's effect, his inability to walk without making a spectacle of himself, and the hard edge to everyone's tone...it just made Dorian puff up his chest more and push even harder through the cold.

But it didn't take long for more important things to come up. Soon, the hills gave way to bridges and roads, still slippery, but more solid. And Red Templars helped keep Dorian distracted enough from his own difficulties. The mines were deep, and full, and as they made their way through everything seemed far too real. The amount of redness here and there, the amount of jagged crystals they destroyed, it all seemed like too much. The anger was clear on Varric's face, and Alex was shocked to find dozens of men and women captured as slaves for the quarry.

There were cages of them, and each one Alex slammed open brought a slight light back into his eyes. But there were always more, and there were always some with a distant look to their irises that screamed "affected". None of the slaves seemed to have been fed in the way the Templars were, but the exposure, the constant touching of the mineral that could drive men crazy just at its presence, had taken its toll. Any slaves who still retained their minds helped those who were vacant find their way out of the mine, and Alex kept giving them directions to their camps and Inquisition outposts. They needed healers, food, and guidance.

When the mine was finally cleared, and the Red Templar threat was quelled, everyone except Dorian seemed exhausted. He was freezing, but his eyes were alert and awake, and his body felt strangely lithe. His head still hurt, and his shoulder had gone from burning to a dull ache, but he was ready. He felt...powerful.

And he had a feeling he knew why that was. Red Lyrium was powerful, he knew that, but that power came with a price. With the slight bit of exposure he had with it, was it possible his magic was augmented? He knew it wouldn't last, but that could surely explain a lot...? If his being a mage made him more susceptible, wouldn't his magic getting stronger be the first side effect?

Dorian wasn't sure whether he should feel intrigued, or afraid.

Alex helped men and women down from cages and up from ladders, Dorian lending a hand where he could. As he directed a man to the Inquisition soldiers waiting at the top of the hill, a voice called out weakly from a shadowy arch towards the mine. Dorian was the first to respond, running forward and finding a woman stuck deep below in the rubble. As he struggled to free her, telling her she would be alright, he realized that she wouldn't budge. As he cleared the rocks from her legs, a sudden sight met his eyes, and he instinctually leapt back with a cry of surprise.

Blackwall was the closest to him, and when his own eyes fell on the sight of the poor woman, he swore under his breath. "Maker have mercy," he said as Dorian put a hand to his chest.

Alex and Varric convened with them, everyone staring at the woman in terror and surprise. Her legs, trapped as they were beneath rocks, were sprouting red lyrium crystals. They were under her nails, tracing along her collar, and Dorian hadn't noticed until it was too late. The woman's life faded before their eyes, and all they could do was stare in a breathless state of horror and wonder.

They were using her to grow the lyrium.

This had to stop.

***

There were too many hills here, Alex decided. He was definitely ready for flat land again. Or at least ready for a bed roll. Clearing out the mine had not only been exhausting physically, but he felt emotionally drained as well. Alex worried that, when the time finally came, when they finally made camp for the night, he'd never be able to close his eyes without seeing that woman. Without seeing the massive amounts of red lyrium being _grown_. 

He thought he had enough to deal with when the Fade rifts seemed to be opening more veins, like the blast at Haven sprouting crystals all around. But he'd seen enough to know that it couldn't be it. Of course there was more, but he'd never realized how much more.

"Remember when I said I didn't think I'd be able to sleep thinking about all this?" Varric mumbled as they traipsed towards the top of the cliff. " _Now_ I won't be able to."

Alex sighed. "I was just thinking that I doubt I'll get any rest tonight."

"It's a good thing we can leave this mess of a place and head back to home," Varric said. "With what we did at the mines, and all the Templars we cleaned out, the other Inquisition soldiers should be able to clean up the rest of this mess."

"Hopefully," Alex agreed, wiping a bit of fallen snow out of his hair. "I can't believe how much there was. It was like a farm."

"Pretty much," Varric frowned, struggling with his boot in a particularly thick skiff. "Let's hope we've set their quota back a ways."

"If we haven't," Alex said darkly, "I doubt we ever will."

Varric gave a very bitter little snort. "How are you feeling anyway? With all that crap around, I can't help but wonder how messed up we've gotten."

"It shouldn't last if we got anything," Alex said, soothing both himself and Varric. "But I never touched it so..." The truth was they barely understood how the blasted red lyrium really worked, how it affected a person's mind or body. Alex wouldn't say he felt any different. Nothing seemed to really change in him other than his mental capacity to see good in people after today. He'd seen some horrors, but never like this. "I feel alright, other than exhausted."

"Me too," Varric said, relieved. "If tired is all I get, I'll count myself lucky. I hate this shit."

"I don't think anyone likes it, Varric," Alex said with a sigh as they neared the precipice. "Hopefully we find somewhere to camp where there isn't even a hint of it."

"The air seems better up here, if that makes any sense," Varric said, but both he and Alex noticed each little vein of the red poison they passed. Still, the wind was soft and the rocks began to turn more brown and black instead of red, and Alex finally felt a little bit of relief sinking into his chest.

And then it all ended.

"I think we may have a problem," Blackwall called from behind, and Alex and Varric turned in exasperation to see what was going on. Behind them, Blackwall stood just a little below on the slope, but farther beyond him, Dorian stood with his back to the group. He was stock still, not shivering for a change, and not falling. All he was doing was staring into the distance, standing by a tiny sliver of red running along a sharp stone jutting out from the hillside.

Alex frowned at first, confused by what the problem was. Dorian was standing, he hadn't slipped again, and all he was doing was peering down into the valley. When Alex's eyes turned to Blackwall's, the man's expression seemed to warn Alex to brace himself. "Watch," Blackwall added as Alex and Varric stared. He looked back at Dorian. "Dorian," Blackwall said. The man didn't move. "Dorian!" Blackwall yelled a little louder.

Still, Dorian didn't move.

Alex's stomach fell to his feet. It was as if every single one of the fears he told himself were irrational, suddenly weren't. He walked down the hill, sliding slightly through the snow, and moved passed Blackwall. He didn't touch Dorian, but he moved close, an icy pang of fear taking over any relief his heart had began to feel. "Dorian?" Alex asked softly.

From the side of his face, Alex saw Dorian blink, then again, then faster. At last he turned. He looked just as oddly confused as the rest of them, and just as dirty and blood spattered. But somewhere in his eyes, passed his apparent vacancy, there was something like fear. "This is going to sound incredibly bad," Dorian said very slowly, "but does anyone else hear...singing?"

The sentence seemed to shake the entire mountain.

"Shit," Varric hissed.

Alex spun and looked at him almost desperately. "What?" he demanded.

Varric looked pained. "That's...not a good question to ask."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked tensely. "Is that a symptom? Is that an effect?"

"It's definitely something," Varric said. "And not a good something."

"Dorian!" Blackwall yelled suddenly, and when Alex spun around with his heart racing he saw Dorian reaching out to the red lyrium vein in the rock. Blackball's yell seemed to make him stop, but Alex was on him in an instant.

He grabbed Dorian's arm and yanked him back roughly, shaking the daze out of Dorian and earning him an angry cuss. "What are you doing?" Alex shouted, both in fear and anger. "Did you touch it? Have you touched it, Dorian!?"

"No!" Dorian said, shaking himself free of Alex. "I'm not an idiot!"

"You were just about to put your hand on the bloody thing!" Blackwall challenged.

"Yelling at him isn't going to help!" Varric put in.

Everyone fell silent. Alex swallowed hard. "It's just exposure," he said into the tension between them all, looking into Dorian's eyes intently. He saw nothing there. And that was both worrying and soothing at the same time. "We're done here. One more night, then we go back to Skyhold." He looked behind him at Varric and Blackwall, who both looked far too cautious for his tastes. "Then we have a healer look at him."

"I'm fine," Dorian said, making everyone look back to him as he almost sighed with the weight of their worry. "You're probably right. Exposure. If you listen, I bet one of you hears it too."

They took a moment. And no one did.

Dorian hid how much that worried him. "Well. I'm more prone to this being a mage, am I not? Wasn't that your big concern?" he said, looking at Varric.

"Honestly, Sparkler," Varric said, "I don't know  _what_ to say about this stuff anymore. Suffice enough to say, none of it will be good."

Dorian scoffed. "Regardless, I feel better now." He took a few steps forward as if that somehow showed he was capable of being normal. "I think a good night's sleep is what I need. And some warmth. Can we just get to a fire and worry about this later?" he asked. Alexander looked at him with concern, distrust, annoyance...so many emotions. "I'll let your healers do whatever they want with me once we're home. For now, I think I'd like to get away from this rot," he said, gesturing behind him. Dorian clambered up the hill, passed Alex, passed Blackwall, and passed Varric.

They all stood there for a little too long, watching Dorian go, then watching each other.


	2. Something Wrong

It would only take about a day to get back to Skyhold from the Emprise, especially on horseback. That was one benefit of being here, Alex thought as he saddled his horse. It was easy to get home.

No one had slept very well that night. Alex had decided to throw himself into a tent as fast as he could in an attempt to get a head start on the restlessness. But that's what it had been, a tossing and turning night full of sudden wake-ups and nerves. At one point, he'd contemplated going into Dorian's tent, both to check on the man as well as to find some company, but he laid in the silence were anxiety in his stomach until exhaustion finally got the better of him.

Much to his surprise, Blackwall passed out almost the moment he laid down. It was still a fitful sleep, with dreams he couldn't get out of his head the next morning, but he at least didn't feel as haggard as he had. It was hard to look passed the events of the day before, and he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a part of him that felt concern over Dorian's strange attitudes, but he forced himself to set his shoulders and agree with the idea that it was just temporary exposure.

Varric slept on and off for the entire night, waking up and taking a walk, then going back to sleep, then shining Bianca, then passing out again. He kept laying there and listening, almost hoping, to also hear the sound of music. Somehow he felt it would make him feel better, even though he could feel the dread in his chest at the idea of following in his brother's footsteps. He'd never heard the melody that idol apparently played...and he managed to sleep through the rest of the night never wanting to.

For Dorian, sleep never came. Not even once. Not even slightly. Every time he closed his eyes, the melody playing in his head seemed to get louder, as if cutting off one sense heightened his others. His head still hurt, and his shoulder blade felt sore and stiff, but no matter how he laid and no matter what he thought of, he couldn't close his eyes.

And he was worried. Not afraid, but worried. And annoyed. If exposure caused this, he couldn't imagine why those Templars would ingest the stuff. He spent a lot of his time sitting in his tent, trying to drown out the music with his own thoughts, trying not to get up and go to Alex. Trying to not panic. Being unable to sleep wasn't a new issue to Dorian, as there had been many times where he couldn't keep his mind from overthinking, but this was different. This was against his will. And it made him feel weak, pathetic. 

When the sun came up, Dorian gave up.

The horses were ready and everyone was eager to go by the time Dorian emerged from his tent. A few soldiers were staying behind to help clear up loose threads, and they only saluted when Alex walked by. No one else deserved that honour, apparently.

"It should only take the day," Alex said as he pulled himself expertly onto his horse. "We're near enough to the mountain base that I expect to be back to Skyhold by sundown."

"Thank the Maker for that," Varric mumbled, his smaller animal huffing slightly as his hands tightened on the reins. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."

"Agreed," Dorian said absently, agreeing on instinct, but as they set off he wasn't aware of the way Alex watched him. Two Inquisition soldiers brought up the rear, and another one rode along in front, letting Dorian, Alex, Blackwall, and Varric hover somewhere in the middle. After nearly an hour of riding, Dorian heard the sound of a horse being sped up.

"How are you feeling?" Alex asked as he appeared by Dorian's side.

Dorian gave him an easy, indifferent look. "Perfectly fine," he lied. "Why are you only asking me? Is it because I'm special?" he mused.

Alexander managed a soft smile, but Dorian could see the unease behind it. "I already know how they are," Alex explained. "We had a nice conversation this morning while we waited for you."

Dorian rolled his eyes and looked ahead. "Yes, I'm a terrible burden. Pampered, slow moving, and easily tripped up in snow. I get it."

"I didn't say anything about snow," Alex pointed out.

Dorian sighed, but it was full of tension. "I'm fine, Alex. You needn't worry yourself over me. Worry over the others if you need to mother someone." It was a nastier comment than he usually made. Alex was used to Dorian teasing him, taunting him, and he'd definitely become accustomed to Dorian's mood swings. But this felt different.

Surprisingly, Alex didn't back down. "None of the others heard singing in their heads yesterday."

Dorian scoffed. "For the love of...It was exposure. It's passed now, you needn't worry over it," he explained. "If it were still happening, you could be more concerned, but it isn't. So stop." He glared at Alex as he rode beside him, and his eyes never wavered. It wasn't a lie, after all. The music had stopped, thankfully, after Dorian's sleepless night. But it had only stopped once Dorian got on his horse.

"You look tired," Alexander said as Dorian stared him down. 

"Everyone looks tired," Dorian snapped.

"Did you sleep?"

"Yes."

"The bags under your eyes suggest otherwise."

Dorian's head snapped to the side. "Alex, I really am not in the mood for your constant prying, alright? I am fine. Everything is fine. I don't need you worrying over me, I don't need your concern or your pity, what I  _need_ is to--" Dorian stopped. He shook his head and looked back to the horizon. "What I need is to stop acting like  _you_."

"So stop," Alex said simply. He didn't take Dorian's little jab at his stubborn ways. Alex knew very well that he too was bad at admitting illness, admitting that anything was wrong. But he knew something  _was_ wrong here, and if the only way to get Dorian to admit it was to pester him, he'd keep at it.

But Dorian leaned towards him, brows furrowed. "I am  _fine_ ," he sneered, and with a kick of his heels his horse dashed forward to put some space between himself and Alexander. To his surprise, and slight sadness, Alex didn't follow. With his absence, Dorian had more time to fume at himself. To fume at the whole situation. 

People didn't pay attention to him. Varric did, maybe, as the two of them tended to bring up the rear of any travels, but Blackwall didn't. And even Alex didn't. Alex's attentions always came later, back at camp or at Skyhold, where they could take off their physical and mental armour and just be people. But whenever they were on an assignment, a mission, anything like that, Alexander was the commander. He was the boss. Dorian followed him with little emotional inclination, or at least he tried not to feel attachment, and for the most part they took on the roles of soldier and Inquisitor.

At this moment, Alexander was still the Inquisitor, and having his commander fret over his performance made Dorian more agitated than if Alex had been asking him in bed.

So they rode on. Every now and then, Dorian could hear a chuckle or a raised voice behind him, but he kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, the other soldiers before him. Normally they'd all be winding down from their fighting mannerisms, becoming friends again as the mission ended, but Dorian felt no desire to join. In fact, all he felt was a strange anger in his chest that he couldn't quite comprehend. And a dull ache in his head. And a pain in his shoulder...

When Skyhold at last came into view, with the sun just beginning to set as expected, Alexander finally felt a sense of safety. For the entire ride, for a reason he couldn't place, he had felt in danger. Or as if they hadn't quite left the battle behind. Getting away from the Emprise would surely help him feel a little more at ease, but he worried on and off that some of the effects could still be playing on his mind, as if his dark mood could be a symptom.

"I'm thinking that I've never been happier to see those walls," Blackwall said, making Alex smile and free up his negative mood. "Didn't think I'd ever be glad to be behind stone walls."

"I know how you feel," Varric added, making Alex give a slight chuckle.

As he looked at Skyhold, there waiting just across the bridge, Alex wondered why it was that he'd felt so drained. After all, they'd been through much, much worse than a mine full of Red Lyrium, but something still felt off about it. The sight of the woman, covered in the crystals, brought back the memory of Fiona in the future, morphing into a giant piece of the stuff in a time period where Alexander hadn't succeeded. Just remembering it made Alex shiver.

He looked up ahead at Dorian's back, which seemed slouched and weary, and he wondered if that was the reason Dorian was snappier than usual. Was he remembering that as well? Or was it truly that something had gotten into his head? It would take a day, maybe two, Alex thought, for Dorian's mind to clear of any effect. 

Maybe then he'd feel less on edge.

But as he watched Skyhold get closer, and as his eyes rolled over Dorian's back every now and then, he noticed...

Dorian was slipping from the saddle.

"Hey!" Alex called as Dorian drifted dangerously to the side. "Dorian!"

Dorian's hands let go of the reins, and with a slight, sighing groan he went off his horse. The sound his body made when it slammed into the stone bridge echoed in Alex's ears for hours.


	3. Just A Scratch

" _Dorian!....Can you hear me?....Someone get a litter!...Dorian?"_

"Ugh," Dorian groaned, opening his eyes, closing them, trying to blink. It was bright. Was he outside?

Yes.

It all rushed into his mind as his vision cleared and his head stopped ringing and spinning. He groaned again and brought a hand to his forehead. 

"Dorian. Can you hear me?" 

It was Alexander. Which didn't shock Dorian in the least. When he opened his eyes again, the first sight he saw was the softly clouded sky above him, and Alex's terrified expression. He was on his knees, hovering close, blue eyes bright even when they were cast in shadow. They were wider than Dorian had ever seen them, however, and the fact that Dorian was the reason Alex looked so terrified made him feel worse.

Above Alex was Blackwall, which _did_ surprise Dorian. Dorian hadn't expected the man to get down from his horse for him. He hadn't expected Varric to either but there they both were, Varric by Dorian's feet and Blackwall towering over Alex's crouched form. It was...flattering? Dorian felt a little too dazed to try and figure out what he felt, and his entire body ached as if he had a cold. As if he'd ridden for days without rest. And his head...Maker, his head...

Dorian groaned, a sighing sound that sounded both exasperated and exhausted. "That's the second time I've hit my head," Dorian grumbled, running a shaky hand through his hair as voices called out in the distance.

Alexander blinked. "What? What do you mean?" he asked. There was a tremor in his voice Dorian didn't like, and he felt a twinge of guilt again at the idea that he was causing Alex any pain.

Dorian sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still laying on the cold stone of the bridge. "I fell before," he finally admitted in a voice that was strangely hoarse. "I hit my head. Rather hard, apparently."

Alex looked both pitying and angry. "Why didn't you say anything? When was this?"

Dorian saw Blackwall cross his arms and it made him hesitate. "While we were fighting. At some point." He sounded like such a little boy, admitting to taking sweets from the pantry or breaking an expensive vase. Every word he said sounded like he was giving up. "I didn't think it was the end of the world. We already have that going on anyway."

"Still makes jokes, even on the ground," Varric chuckled breathily. "Gotta hand it to him."

Dorian struggled to sit up, groaning yet again, and letting Alex put a steadying hand on his back. Dorian hissed. "Hit harder than I thought," he said to Alex's anxious face.

"Like a sack of potatoes," Blackwall put in, but when Dorian looked up the bearded man was smiling at him with a strange sort of pity. Dorian decided he didn't like it.

When he finally managed to stand, again letting Alex help him, Dorian steadied himself on the side of the bridge and tried to blink through the headache he was developing. A few soldiers had appeared with a stretcher ready for him and he grimaced and waved it away. "Send that back, I don't need that," he spat.

"Dorian, it's alright," Alexander said softly.

"Truly, it's fine," Dorian assured. "Honestly. I was tired, alright? I was exhausted. I didn't sleep. There. Do with that as you will. But along with a headache, and a head  _wound_ , I lost my composure."

"You lost consciousness," Alex corrected sternly.

"For a moment," Dorian reluctantly agreed. He pursed his lips and spoke a bit quieter. "I'd like to walk. I can be looked over once we're through the gates, but please, can we have the attention off me for a change? I'm finding I don't enjoy it when it's full of pity."

"It's worry," Alex said. "That's different."

"Not by enough," Dorian said darkly.

Alexander let him walk, walking along beside him and having a soldier take the reins of their horses. There was no point in Varric or Blackwall getting back on their horses either, so they all just slowly walked across the bridge looking quite wrecked. Alex had a hand ready at every moment, but Dorian just moved with ease and a bit of caution across the bridge. He kept his head down when they neared the gate, feeling eyes everywhere, knowing somehow instinctively that Cullen was waiting in the courtyard. He didn't need to hear the man's voice to know his presence was inevitable.

"Inquisitor," Cullen spoke up as they came through the massive arch. "What happened? I heard..." He stopped, thankfully, when Dorian met his gaze. The ice in Dorian's eyes had Cullen shutting right up.

"Would you please send a healer to my quarters?" Alexander said. He didn't move away from Dorian even as he stood cracking his neck and rubbing his tense shoulders. So many people watched him. How fast had word spread, Dorian wondered. Or had everyone seen him topple from the saddle?

" _My_ quarters," Dorian said, making Alex throw him a glance. "Let them have their look, then let me sleep. And not be monitored like an invalid."

Alex frowned. This wasn't the first time Dorian had alluded to his hatred of being pitied or babied, and it stuck like a pin in Alexander's mind. In the end, he nodded, and agreed that the healer should be sent to Dorian's room instead. "Let someone escort you at least," Alexander said, earning an eye roll but a defeated nod. Alex watched Dorian walk off, keeping a good distance between himself and the Inquisition soldier accompanying him, and Cullen stood beside Alex as the others split up.

"What happened in the Emprise?" Cullen asked. He was intuitive, and it was clear there was something amiss.

"It was a headache," Alexander said. "Pure trouble."

Cullen frowned. "And Dorian?"

Alex took a deep breath and heard Dorian make the Inquisition soldier laugh. It was normal, his usual attitude defusing the tension, but Alex watched them mount the stairs into Skyhold with a deep sense of concern. He swallowed hard. "When the healer is done," Alex said, voice low, guilty, "post someone by Dorian's room."

"Why?" Cullen asked skeptically. "What are you anticipating?"

Alexander's red brows were furrowed, but he had no answer.

"Did something happen?" Cullen prompted gently. "Inquisitor?"

"Just look after him," Alex said, turning and running his fingers through his hair. "And beg Josephine for a wash tub."

***

Surprisingly, Dorian was not suffering from a concussion. He had a bit of a bump forming on the back of his head from his first fall, and his second one had resulted in more pain to his shoulder and hip then to his head. Which he was grateful for. What he wasn't pleased with was the massive headache he had, and the ache radiating through his back. It made him feel both sick and old, and he hated both of those feelings. One more than the other.

Once the healer left him, and he made an express command for the woman to tell Alex he was in good health, Dorian lay down on his bed and stared up at the rafters. It had honestly been quite a while since he'd slept here. Not just due to their constant roaming about, but because for the last little while, Alex's room had become Dorian's. In fact, there were quite a lot of Dorian's books up there, and some of his expensive brandy, and a fair amount of his clothes...

All this made Dorian want to get up and change his mind about being here alone. As stubborn as he was, as broken as he felt, he could admit to himself that maybe-- _maybe--_ having Alex here with him would feel a little better. Dorian had never been a detached lover before. In fact, he rather enjoyed the little romantic tid bits that came along with sex. But with Alex? Ah, with Alex...

It was comforting for Dorian to lay his head on Alex's thick shoulder. He liked feeling Alex behind him, against him, under him. It was even nice when Alex's hand snaked into his in the middle of the night, or stroked the curve of his spine in the early morning. 

Fuck it, Dorian liked to be held. And right now, he could use it...

But he  _was_ stubborn, and embarrassed that he'd fallen yet again, and ashamed that he had indeed become a burden to the group. He wanted to be alone with his shame more than he wanted to be petted and comforted by Alexander. 

Dorian undressed slowly, just the minimum amount for being able to sleep, and once he was clad only in a pair of light trousers and a simple shirt he crawled into bed. It was harder than he remembered, and lower to the ground, but it felt more welcome then a bed roll in a tent. In the cold. Without a fire.

Dorian was fast asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, but his brows stayed furrowed, and his breath came quickly. And an eerie little tune was playing over and over again in his dreams.

***

Something was burning.

Dorian was half asleep still when he realized it, when his groggy mind finally took the strange heat in his shoulder into consideration. Groaning, moaning, and somehow gasping for breath, Dorian's mind finally woke him, and he sat up with a hiss and threw the sheets about in a frenzy. What was burning him? Had an ember floated over from he fire? Did some nasty little insect find its way into his bed?

In a wash of sweat, Dorian stared down at the mattress to find nothing of particular note there. Other then the dampness his sweaty body had left behind, there was no sign of fire. But that's what it felt like. Dorian reached back as best he could and brushed just by his shoulder blade, feeling the heat rise the moment his fingers brushed a part of his shoulder. And it stung. He hissed again and continued to experiment with his fingers, dipping below his shirt to touch his skin, and when his hand came away, there was blood.

It met his eyes strangely. He blinked at it for a moment before realizing, truly, that there was something wrong. When it dawned on him that the blood on his fingers was from his shoulder, the ache in his head came back, and nausea followed.

 _Red_. It's all he could see, all he could think of. There was redness on his fingers, coming from his body. Blood. But. There was more to it. When had this happened? When had he gotten injured? Dorian tried to remember catching himself on anything anywhere, but all he remembered was falling and hitting his head.

And landing on the ground near a vein of...

Clambering out of bed with a great amount of difficulty, Dorian dug through his traveling bag of dirty clothes and bloody rags. He found one of his other shirts, the one he'd had on under his armour the day he'd slammed his head to the ground, and inspected it all around. There, on the shoulder, was a little slice. A tiny hole you'd never be able to notice with the rest of his armour on. He must have cut himself on something, and it must be the reason his back ached and his skin sizzled and...

And he must have cut it on...

Dorian threw his shirt to the ground with a strange, choked sound coming from his throat. His hands dug into his hair and he just stared at the piece of cloth sitting on the stone, mocking him with the little slice in the fabric that caused him sudden distress. And panic. He felt it in his chest, and as his fingers pressed harder into his scalp his nails felt too sharp. He looked at them, chipped but clean, but there was something else. More red?  _More redness_. 

He couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. His eyes felt dry.

Dorian paced before the fire, hands back in his hair, breath coming fast. No, no,  _no_ , he kept saying it over and over like that would make it true. He reached back and prodded at the cut again and again, each stinging burn the touches brought just making him more and more afraid. This couldn't be. This absolutely couldn't be!

What was he supposed to do? He looked at his door. Should he tell someone? Should he scream through Skyhold until someone helped him? Until someone told him it would be alright? Would it be alright?! Varric had told him, after all. He'd told Dorian what happened to his brother, and Dorian knew what happened to the former Knight Commander of Kirkwall. He saw what the Red Templars were like. He saw what Fiona had turned into in the future. He saw that woman at the mine...

Dorian griped his hair tighter.

What was he supposed to do?

 _Leave_. The word echoed in his mind as if someone else had whispered it to him. He had to leave. What other choice was there? He was done for. Yes. Dorian Pavus was a goner, a dead man walking, a plague upon Skyhold that had to be removed before it was too late. While he could still think, while it was still clear, Dorian had to run. He wouldn't be a burden, he wouldn't be a monster. He would hurt anyone.

He wouldn't hurt Alex.

Dorian grabbed his old staff, leaning in the corner of his room as a piece of nostalgia he couldn't throw away. He'd been given a better one, and he had never been a sentimental person, but now he felt glad that this one remained. It was all he had to defend himself against anyone who tried to stop him from leaving.

Dorian opened his door, and sitting in the hall was an Inquisition scout fast asleep. It puzzled Dorian for only a moment, but then the crushing weight of his new reality slapped him in the face again and he bolted down the hallway in an utter and complete panic. He had to get away, he had to, he had to...

"Lord Pavus!" someone called. Dorian had made it to the stairs, and he was heading down the last two and nearly tripping when he heard his name. A name. He turned to find a new face but the same face coming after him. Another scout. "Where are you going?" he asked, as if Dorian's movements were his only concern.

Dorian backed up. "Please, walk away. It's best."

"Ser?"

"Walk away," Dorian said again, making it to the courtyard.

The scout looked Dorian up and down with a very confused look to his eyes. "Are you alright, ser?"

"No," Dorian said sadly. He gave a strange, bitter and breathy laugh. "No, I'm not."

The sleeping scout from earlier appeared at the top of the steps, and Dorian looked up with worry. No, he thought. They were going to try and stop him. 

Dorian raised his staff. "Let me be," he warned them. "I don't want to cause a scene. I don't want anyone hurt."

Both scouts looked positively terrified. "You shouldn't be in the courtyard, ser," one of the scouts said, and as he stepped forward, Dorian raised his staff higher.

"Back up!" Dorian yelled. "Let me be!"

Both scouts raised their hands in defence. Dorian looked around to find a few other faces appearing from the darkness. He continued to back away.

"I have to leave," Dorian said. He repeated himself, over and over again. "Don't you see? Don't you _see!_ " He held his hands up, showing the redness under his nails. Showing them all that he was poisoned, doomed, but they all looked so confused. They didn't see it, they didn't understand. They couldn't. They just couldn't!

They couldn't hear the melody. 

 


	4. Dorian Lost

It had taken Alexander far too long to fall asleep. Once he went back to his quarters, once he allowed a few healers to take a good look at him as well, he laid there for a long, long time. There were still visions of the nightmare that had been the Emprise floating behind his eyelids, and Alex could absolutely admit that being alone in the dark was a little unnerving to him tonight. But it wasn't so much the memories or the black night that kept him awake.

It was the alone part.

For weeks, Dorian had become Alexander's pillow. His blanket. His security. It was just second nature now for Dorian to make his way to Alex's quarters once he'd tired himself out for the day. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep in the library, and Alex would feel him snuggling into bed beside him at all hours of the night. Most of the time, however, if Alexander was going to sleep, Dorian surely followed.

And it hurt a bit without him here. It wasn't a simple absence that Alex felt, because Dorian and  _chosen_ to stay away. He wasn't reading late, he wasn't even having a few drinks at the tavern. He was refusing to spend time in Alex's company. And it stung.

Alexander felt no guilt, however. He was glad he'd forced a healer onto Dorian. He was happy to know a scout was monitoring Dorian's door, watching for movement, listening for distress. Whatever negative emotion Alexander was feeling, laying there in the darkness, the blanket pulled up to his chin, Maker knows it wasn't guilt. If there was anything Alexander was good at, it was taking care of the people he cared about. Dorian's little snap about Alex mothering everyone only hurt for a moment, because Alex knew that if he  _didn't_ look out for them, they'd never look out for themselves.

Or they'd be to busy looking out for  _him_ to mind their own footing.

Alex sighed. All those tumbles and slips, all those falls, and he hadn't even noticed Dorian crack his head on the ground. How had he missed it? Alex was glad to know there seemed to be no sign of concussion somehow. Dorian must have a thick skull, and it made him smile slightly to think that. He wished Dorian were here so he could tease him. But even though Alex was relieved to hear that Dorian was in good health, it made him all the more concerned over his fall off his horse. For his snapping attitude. For the melody in his head...

The healers said Dorian was in good health. But they can only see so much.

Alex rolled over and looked out across the balcony, staring at the mountains. He'd left the window open for the cool night air, feeling as if heat would make sleeping even more difficult, but now he felt chilly.

He blinked.

And now there was a person outside.

Alex sat up quickly with a gasp, but the figure stepped boldly into his quarters. Even in the dark, his skin was still so pale.

"Cole?" Alexander said in surprise, sitting up higher and staring at the spirit.

Cole fidgeted, and Alexander knew that the look on the boy's face meant that something was amiss. Someone was hurting. "Eyes searching, scanning, mind buzzing and yet not," Cole spouted off. He spoke faster than Alex had ever heard, and his eyes were downcast. "Hurting and aching, confused but confident. Fleeing. Have to leave, have to get away."

"Hold on," Alexander soothed, raising a hand. "Cole, it's alright. Slow down."

"They don't know," Cole continued. "How could they know? The danger, the sadness, must get away."

"Cole--"

Cole looked up. "They don't hear it."

Alexander blinked a moment, staring at Cole in confusion for a brief instant. Then a knock came form his door and they both jumped. When Alex heard it open, heard armoured footsteps pounding up towards him, he felt like he already knew...

"Inquisitor!" a soldier exclaimed, looking quite out of place in the quiet and dark of Alex's room. "Please, ser, you must come."

"What is it?" Alexander asked uselessly.

"He is hurting," Cole breathed before the solider could reply. He was suddenly at the side of Alex's bed. "He is hurting but he doesn't understand. He sees, and doesn't see. He needs help. They don't hear it."

Alexander's face went slack, and it felt like his heart turned to a lump of stone in his chest. "Dorian," he breathed, and in the next moment he was throwing back the covers and reaching for a shirt. He threw it on in haste and followed the Inquisition solider, leaving Cole standing, anxious and fidgety, in his quarters as he hopped down two, three,  _four_ stairs at a time.

"Where is he?" Alexander asked as he and the soldier made their way through the main hall.

"The courtyard, ser," said the solider, somewhat out of breath. "We're doing all we can but we don't want to harm him."

Alex felt his heart skip a beat, and then nearly stop altogether as he saw flames appear through the doors of Skyhold. _Maker, no_ , he thought, and as he and the soldier emerged onto the landing, Alexander saw a sight he suddenly realized was one of his worst nightmares.

Dorian stood in the centre of the little courtyard, one hand out, the other gripped around his old staff. He looked small somehow, and Alexander felt it wasn't just the distance, but there was something to his posture that...

He was slouching. Alexander realized, as time slowed a moment, that Dorian was slouching. This man who rarely ever had his head down was curled in on himself defensively, and when his head snapped around to bark at an approaching soldier, Alex saw a look in Dorian's eyes that chilled him to the very core. It was vacant, yet wild at the same time, a kind of look you would see on the face of someone who had nothing to lose. The kind of look you would expect to find on someone desperate.

The kind of look you would see on someone who had gone mad.

Alexander left the soldier in the dust, making his way down the stairs and rushing to where Dorian seemed to be fighting people off. There were only three other soldiers trying to rein him in, and a handful of people had appeared far beyond as bystanders, but Dorian was ready for an army.

His voice, when Alex finally listened to it, was hoarse and raw. "You must leave me!" Dorian shouted as he waved fire towards an Inquisition woman. "Back away! Back  _awayI_ "

The woman did as she was told, as Dorian's staff swept out like a blade towards her stomach. She looked over Dorian's head to see Alexander, and she cried out for him.

Dorian rounded, and in his wild eyes there was nothing of the man Alexander knew. Dorian was wild, untameable. Rabid. But his expression soon shifted from terror and anger to utter despair at the sight of Alexander.

Everyone froze.

Alex put his hands up in surrender, looking about as he realized how many scorch marks and remaining icicles were scattered around the small space. What had happened here?

"Inquisitor!" the woman said again. "He's--"

"It's alright," Alexander called back, all the while watching Dorian as he in turn watched the soldiers. "Give him space. Let him have space. Stand back."

Reluctantly, the soldiers did as they were told, and Dorian watched them move away from him as his chest raked in breath after breath. Alexander stepped closed, and Dorian spun, staff in hand, and pointed it at him. "No don't," Dorian said, sorrow seeping into his tone now. "Stay there. Please."

"It's fine," Alexander said. "It's alright."

"No it  _isn't_ ," Dorian spat. He looked so tired this close, like he hadn't slept in days. He spoke through his teeth. "It  _isn't_ alright."

"Okay," Alex said calmly, though his heart was hammering behind his ribs. "Okay. Something is wrong, then," he surmised. He threw a glance at one of the soldiers, and they moved closer to Dorian once more. "No stop! Stay back! Stay where you are!" Alex demanded, and when Dorian spun with an angry glare, the soldiers were backing away again.

"Dorian," Alexander coaxed, pulling Dorian's eyes back to his. For once, Alex actually didn't want to look at Dorian. It hurt. "It's going to be alright. Even if it isn't now."

But Dorian was shaking his head sadly, backing away as well, backing towards the gates to the bridge. "It won't be," he said, pitiful. "It's all over now, I have to  _leave_."

"Why?" Alex asked, again managing to keep his voice calm as his body shook.

Dorian closed his eyes, turned away, shook his head. His breath sounded shaky, unsure but also distraught. "I can't be here now," he said, "like this. It will ruin everything."

"Like what? What do you mean?" Alex asked.

Dorian stepped forward, and Alex tried not to flinch. "It's under my nails, Alex!" Dorian hissed. "I can feel it, growing. Under my eyelids. They're so  _dry_. It stings to blink! I can't stay here with this! I won't ruin everything!"

Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but no words seemed to form there. For a moment, all he was was confused. Was Dorian saying what he thought he was? And was any of it true? Alexander felt nausea threatening his body as Dorian looked back towards the gates. He seemed so afraid.

It was like his father all over again, Alex suddenly thought. That raw voice, that constricted expression. Alexander had hoped never to see Dorian so distressed like that, so utterly out of his shell that it made him shake and nearly cry. Alexander loved Dorian's softness, his sweetness, no matter how rare it was. But this. This was  _agony_.

Alex tried to speak again, but a sudden  _whoosh_ made him give pause. There, beside Dorian, Cole had appeared. His appearance made Dorian jump back and lift his staff once more, letting a wave of sparks trickle down from the top of it. None of this bothered Cole it seemed, and the differing looks they both gave one another had everyone on edge.

"Is this how it ends?" Cole breathed. "Fighting, fleeing, nothing to do...It will  _pass_. They cannot hear it, but you won't listen."

As Dorian stared wildly at Cole, Alexander took a chance. He shot forward and reached for Dorian's wrist. One of the soldiers yelled out, "Inquisitor, no!" and their words had Dorian rounding once again like a caged animal. The anger in his face, the struggle in his eyes, were nothing compared to the fire in his hands.

They faced each other, a true stand off, with Alex unflinching and Dorian out of control. His hand smouldered with fire, little tendrils of the magic flames licking at Alex's fingers, but they didn't burn. And Alex held on tightly. It was a threat, a hope that Alex would back down or cast Dorian away, but it wouldn't work on him. Alexander knew Dorian too well, and he loved him too much.

"Stop," Alexander said gently, though his face was severe. "Dorian, stop."

Dorian shook his head. "You don't understand," he said through clenched teeth. "I  _feel_ it."

"There's nothing," Alexander said, but when his words seemed to ring hollow, he tugged Dorian's his wrist, giving him a little shake. "Look, Dorian. Quench the flame and really  _look_ at your hand. There's nothing!"

The fire went out after a moment of pause, and Dorian's angry eyes shifted nervously to his fingers. Alexander let his wrist go, and Dorian brought his hand to his face in order to see. His fingers shook, and so did his shoulders, and Alex watched him blink over and over as if trying to decide what image to truly believe. "What is this then?" Dorian finally asked, suddenly panicked. "Here! Here, what is this?" He threw his hand in Alex's face and Alex almost backed up.

He looked at Dorian's fingers and felt fear, sadness, worry..."It's blood, Dorian," Alexander explained. "It's only blood. Nothing more."  _Only blood_ felt wrong to say, but it seemed to release a tense breath from Dorian.

Dorian looked again, apparently shocked by Alexander's claims. He swallowed hard. "And my eyes? My eyes, Alex, they're--"

"Nothing," Alex soothed. He bravely moved closer, reaching out a hand to put it on Dorian's skin. He was sweating, but he was frozen. It was a harrowing contrast. "Look, nothing," Alex said again, and he lifted his thumb to Dorian's eyes, watching them close, and he ran his digit gently over Dorian's lids. They were soft, perfectly normal, but Dorian's eyes twitched madly behind the thin veil of skin.

When they opened again, and Dorian looked into Alex's blue irises, he gave a breathy chuckle. It felt so out of place here that for once, Alexander didn't like Dorian's laugh. The sound of his staff falling from his hands echoed around them, and Alex tried to smile. "Nothing," Dorian breathed, looking at his fingers again for a moment. He put a hand on Alex's chest and looked back into his face. "There's nothing," Dorian said again, the joy and relief in his features nearly immeasurable. He gave another strange laugh, stumbled forward towards Alex slightly, and then collapsed.

Alexander caught him up easily, but it was so sudden that they both nearly went to their knees. As Alex's hand wrapped around Dorian's back, his fingers brushed something damp against Dorian's shirt. When he looked quickly to his fingers, Alexander saw blood.

The soldier closest to Alex darted forward to help hoist Dorian, and after a moment, Alexander hooked Dorian's arm over his shoulder. Dorian gave an odd, groaning sigh, and Alex managed to get him on his feet. His eyes stayed shut, but he seemed aware somehow, not completely gone.

"Rouse Solas," Alexander demanded of the soldier. "Send him to my quarters."

"Yes ser," the soldier said, pausing a moment before heading off.

Alexander started towards the stairs. "And find Varric," he called. "Send him as well." Alexander looked at Dorian's somewhat unconscious face, his heart still beating hard, but his adrenaline keeping him sane. "We need to talk."

 


End file.
